


tango for three

by gdgdbaby



Series: past, present, future [3]
Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Barebacking, M/M, Morning Sex, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sloppy Seconds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-13 18:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14118090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gdgdbaby/pseuds/gdgdbaby
Summary: When Lovett wakes up and rolls over on Saturday morning, Tommy's already fucking Jon, balls-deep and weighing him into the mattress. It's annoying for a couple reasons.





	tango for three

**Author's Note:**

> written for [this prompt](https://podsavethekink.dreamwidth.org/659.html?thread=73363#cmt73363) on the kink meme, which asked for ot3 sloppy seconds/barebacking; cleaned up here.

When Lovett wakes up and rolls over on Saturday morning, Tommy's already fucking Jon, balls-deep and weighing him into the mattress. It's annoying for a couple reasons. First of all, the fact that they started without him is something he's going to have to address at length when his tongue feels less like a cotton ball, but more importantly—

"What time is it?" he mumbles, cracking an eye open. Jon's on his stomach, face tucked into the pillow beneath his head and arms flexing as he holds onto the slats in the headboard. Lovett's mouth goes even drier.

Tommy thrusts slowly into Jon again, makes him moan, pretty and loud. "I dunno," he says, shrugging, the very picture of sexual vigor, which should frankly be illegal before Lovett's had the opportunity to pour any coffee into his mouth. Try to inoculate himself. "Like, seven? Maybe?"

Jon hums into the pillow, too pliant to be anything but agreeable. "It's Saturday, you animals," Lovett says. He scrubs a hand over his eyes, rubbing sleep gunk out of them, and squirms a little as his traitorous dick starts waking up and taking interest in the proceedings. "Saturday is supposed to be for sleeping in."

"You know I like an early start," Tommy says, rolling his hips. The mattress shudders beneath them, which is probably what jostled Lovett awake in the first place. That and the faint, breathy pants coming out of Jon's mouth. It's all incredibly distracting. If Lovett wants to pass out again, he'll have to wander into the living room or one of the spacious guest bedrooms at Jon's house, but—he doesn't actually want to leave.

When Lovett boils it down, it's not much of a dilemma at all. Now that he's up, he might as well enjoy the show. "Better give me something to be excited about," he grumbles, propping himself up with an elbow and dipping his hand past the waistband of his boxers.

"Told you he'd get on board," Jon murmurs, turning so Lovett can see half his face, the curve of his smile.

Tommy chuckles, leans down to smack Jon's ass with one hand. "Is now really the time for I told you so's?" he says, sliding out and pushing back in, and Jon's shaky groan is answer enough for that.

Lovett's watched them do this countless times at this point, but he doesn't think he'll ever get tired of it, how Tommy's muscles move fluidly beneath his flushed, freckled skin, how Jon's spine arches as Tommy fucks into him. Early on, it made Lovett feel self-conscious, and it still does, a little bit, the way they look like they could be taken straight out of a well-lit porn video, two hot bros having sweaty, athletic sex on a rumpled, unmade bed. The classic set-up, a worn out fantasy in every gay guy's spank bank.

The only difference is—they're _his_ hot bros, they _are_. They're here with him. Tommy keeps glancing over to check on him, licking his lips as he watches Lovett pull his rapidly hardening dick out of his underwear and tug at it, thumbing the slit, stroking down the shaft. Jon's eyes have gone half-lidded, but he's looking at Lovett too, mouthing uselessly at the pillowcase.

"You wanna take a turn when I'm done?" Tommy says through his teeth. Jon groans again, grinds out a thin, desperate "Please," and Lovett hisses as he squeezes himself too tight.

"Yeah, okay," Lovett says, voice rough. "I'm going back to sleep after, though," he says, and Tommy's laughing when he comes inside Jon, the long line of his body held tense, fingers digging into Jon's hips.

He pulls out after one long moment, falls back toward the other side of the bed, and Lovett gets up on his knees, slots himself into the warm space Tommy left behind. Jon lifts his hips so Lovett can see the come slowly dripping out of him, thick and tacky.

It takes a minute for Lovett to shake the dizziness out of his head. Jon's such a dick; he knows what he looks like. "So loose, after Tommy," Lovett murmurs, breath catching. He runs a hand down Jon's sweaty spine, using the other to push Tommy's jizz back inside him. "I could slide right inside you and you wouldn't even feel a thing, huh?"

Jon makes a wounded noise, looking at Lovett over his shoulder. It's always a good sign that Jon's close when he forgets how to say real words, which works out because Lovett doesn't think he's going to last very long, either. Not like this, with Tommy's gaze heavy on both of them and Jon still wet and open.

Lovett pushes in without warning, and Jon's eyes slide all the way shut, his shoulders flexing, a throaty gasp working its way out of his mouth. Jon's always responsive, always leans into even the most innocuous touch when they're at the office, out for dinner, with friends, but it's like he turns into a lightning rod of sensation when he's being fucked. Lovett's never met anyone so expressive. He pushes in harder, exhaling sharply as Jon clenches around him, and Jon trembles and makes a mess of himself when Lovett leans over and kisses the back of his neck.

He squeezes weakly around Lovett, like he's trying to pull Lovett deeper, still. Tommy presses in close again, palm skating across Lovett's back before he hooks an arm around his waist, and Lovett comes like that, warm and sweaty and shaking, lower lip caught between his teeth.

They kind of collapse in a heap, after; it's hard to keep track of limbs when they're piled together like this. "Oof," Jon says, but he doesn't try to move away, just wiggles underneath them. Lovett can already feel drowsiness creeping back up to overtake him, even though they're all sticky and gross.

"Shower, later," Tommy mumbles, because he's anal about this shit. He doesn't move away either, though, which is satisfying.

"Sleep, now," Lovett says. He's smiling when he drifts off.


End file.
